The Sorrows of Tomorrow
by lilgenious
Summary: A joyful morning ride and her husband at her side, she thought nothing could go wrong. However, she soon finds that having a dark past could always catch up to her in the end and that when it did, the man she married became a monster.


This is a story written for Russian_blue for the 2012 yuletide. This story explores the relationship between Anne de Breuil and Olivier de la Fère (Athos), though it is just a tiny snippet of their life before it is revealed that Anne is branded.

A much gratified thank you goes to terfle for the beta-ing of this story. All other mistakes that she did not point out are mine.

* * *

The horses were frisky in the cool early morning air as they trotted close to a fast moving stream that had steep embankments covered in large rocks, in the water itself protruded boulders of all shapes and sizes, some so large that the two riders were surprised any water could get by at all and in some parts of the shallow river, the rocky riverbed could be seen.

Trees lined the banks on both sides, some of them leaning over the rocky embankment and water, providing shade to the life that lived there. A grey heron stood in a shallow part of the stream, absolutely silent and still as it looked for fish or the unlucky frog that would come its way but when one of the horses snorted, the great bird started and took off into flight, coming to rest on the opposite side of the bank.

"Olivier, was that a heron?" asked a young woman as she watched the great bird go back to where it had been originally, this time interested in a large frog that had unwisely moved from the shadows of the tree and into the sunlight.

"Yes, Anne," Olivier replied as he turned in the seat of his saddle and looked back at the bird in question. "A few of them come around this river and hunt for food. There is never a short supply of frogs in this stream, they like it here."

Anne was silent as she watched the heron suddenly stop in its stalking, then stretching its long neck, snatched the unsuspecting frog from the water with its bill and began to eat. She turned back to her husband who was watching her in amusement. "What?" she questioned.

"I almost expected you to pity the frog," Olivier said trying to contain his laughter. "The way your face looked when the heron snatched it from the water, I was sure you were going to say something about it."

Anne's face suddenly became stony when she heard these words but the Comte had pulled ahead of her, intent on continuing the morning ride and did not notice. "I don't pity the frog anymore than you do," she said quietly, so that Olivier could not hear her.

For several minutes they rode in silence, marvelling in the beauty of the early morning that surrounded them. The birds sang as the two horses trotted by their trees and the grasshoppers and crickets contributed to their early morning songs by joining in with a chorus of chirps and cracks. Ahead of them grew two wild apple trees, one on each side of the woodland trail, the delicate white blossoms at full bloom, a sure sign that it was late spring.

As they rode past the two apple trees, with their rough bark and twisted branches, the trail they were on began to head uphill and away from the stream that they were following. Wild flowers, their wide range of colours magnificent to the eye, held Anne's eye as they passed and she smiled contentedly from her seat in the saddle, her blue eyes sparkling in the sun.

The trees seemed to grow denser when they reached the top of the hill and Olivier, who knew these woods well as he had been in them since childhood, told her that he knew of a trail that would take them back to Château de la Fère.

"How do you like the horse?" Olivier asked after a few moments of silence. Early last evening, Olivier had presented the bay mare to her and had promised that they would ride out the following morning to try her out. Anne had been excited when she saw the horse as she loved riding, the horse was obviously well-bred and came from good stock and was extremely well-mannered.

Anne smiled at her husband when she noticed that he was waiting for a response. "The horse is absolutely beautiful. I thank you for the gift; she would have been quite costly for you."

"The reward was enough payment." Olivier looked pleased. "As I am sure you noticed she is very well-bred."

"I've noticed."

"Your smile is very beautiful," Olivier said suddenly as he looked sideways at her.

She looked back at him amused. "What else do you think is beautiful about me?" she asked coyly.

"Everything about you is beautiful."

"Name one thing besides my smile and I will be content."

"Your eyes, your face, your personality. Everything about you is beautiful. Do I need to continue?" Olivier asked. He looked amused. "Your voice is beautiful and so is the way you dance."

Anne revelled in the attention she was receiving and gave a laugh when the Count continued on with everything he thought that was beautiful about her. She thought back to her days before she had met the man she had married and could not find a day when she was this happy. Her mind went to the young priest she had run away with from the convent and for a moment she felt guilty, she wondered, as she did sometimes as to how he was doing now and whether he had went back to the Church.

She remembered how crushed he had been when she had passed him off as her brother instead of a lover and how he had looked when she had been proposed to by the young Count. Anne thought that she would never easily forget the look that had passed on the young priest's face when she had consented to the Count's marriage proposal. Though, Anne wasn't the least bit guilty for doing what she did, sometimes the face of her first lover flashed in her memory and she would feel remorse for what she did. She had to admit that the feeling wasn't one that affected her for long and soon she pushed through her thoughts and came back to the present and found that the topic had changed to plans for that night.

"My father invited us to the country home in Brécy for a few days," Olivier said as they passed by some flowering trees, their dark pink flowers radiant in the early morning sunshine. He had slowed his black gelding to a walk as he spoke and for the first time since they had started their ride, he looked troubled.

Anne collected herself; her father-in-law had taken an immediate dislike to her since the first time that he had met her. She remembered the reaction when Olivier had told his father that he was taking her for his bride and anger suddenly blazed through her as if it were fire.

"I'll send a letter to him by courier, telling him that we cannot attend." Olivier had watched her reaction without her realising it and wanting to keep his wife happy, decided it were for the best that they not make the trip to the town to see his father.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, her face composed. Though she looked calm to Olivier, on the inside she was churning. "He is your father; you can't deny his request to see you. The country home sounds beautiful from what you have been telling me and I am eager to see it, you told me that the gardens are absolutely wonderful and designed by the best landscapers in the province. The trip this time of year would be very nice indeed."

"But, my father..."

"Don't worry about your father's feelings for me," she said softly, she wasn't looking anywhere near Olivier, taking interest instead in a large elm tree that they were coming upon. Finally she turned her attention to her husband and saw that he looked doubtful. "Fathers are like that, they don't want to see their children all grown up and making their own decisions. Give him time and you'll see that he'll warm up to me. I think that his coldness comes from the fact that you rushed into this marriage without discussing it with him."

Olivier waved his hand dismissively. "You know how he was when he discovered that we were courting; he was so against it that I thought he was going to have you arrested. All those things he said about you when you weren't present made me realise that he wouldn't consent to the marriage even if I discussed it. He sent for Lucrèce de Sancy when he found out that I was to marry you, hoping that she would change my mind."

"The sister of your childhood friend?" Anne questioned in disbelief. She had been suspicious of Lucrèce's sudden arrival to La Fère and had voiced her opinion on the young woman many times to Olivier. To say that she had been happy when the Countess de Sancy packed her bags and left to go back home the weekend before the ceremony for marriage was to begin was a bit of an understatement on her part. His father's petty attempt to force his son to marry a woman that only he approved of was completely laughable to Anne, but it made her realise just how much the elder Count was a threat to her and one that would soon become non-existent.

With this thought on her mind, a smile broke out on her face once more. "Well, they failed didn't they? You married me because you loved me enough to fight for me and I shall reward your bravery tonight."

"Will you?" Oliver sounded amused but nonetheless, reached out and stroked her hair fondly.

She laughed lightly before she responded. "My mother was a woman of high rank but needless to say she still taught her daughters how to cook. Do you know that saying "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach"?"

"I might have heard something like that through my mother."

"It is true though." she teased him.

"Not always," Olivier said. "The way to a man's heart is almost as complicated as a woman's."

She looked at him in playful disbelief. "Women may have a lot of levels to unravel their heart but men are always the same!"

"That's not true!" Olivier played right into her game but didn't mind in the slightest. "We have many levels, just like you women."

Anne laughed the sound echoing through the thick trees and forcing the birds to go silent for a few minutes before starting back into their songs. "All you men are interested in when you meet a woman is her looks."

The Count smirked. "If that is the case than I found myself a beauty. I believe the reason why I fell in love with you was more than your looks; it was for your mystery and your charm and your personality. Also, if memory serves correct, your brother wasn't too keen of me going after you. Speaking of your brother, where is he? We should send for him sometime to join us for a few days... I regret not knowing him as I should."

Her face hardened at the question. Olivier leaned toward her and was surprised by how contorted her face was by anger; it looked almost hideous... like that of the gargoyles that protected the Cathedral in town.

"Did I say something that upset you?"

Her features were composed by the time she answered and she found herself regretting her sudden bout of anger. She thought carefully of what she was going to say next and found that she needed to play the part of a grieving sister. "I don't know where Pierre is. I wanted to invite him to the wedding a couple of months ago but when the courier went there, they discovered that he was nowhere to be found. When I finally discovered where he went, I sent him a letter and he responded in a cruel manner. I fear that I lost the only member of my family still left."

A flicker of annoyance swept Olivier's face when he heard this. "Do you know the town that he went to? Perhaps I can find him and talk some sense into him. I know how upset you are over this. Perhaps I can write him a letter..."

"Don't bother," she said morosely. "The next time I sent him a letter; the courier came back saying that my brother had vanished again. This time we don't know where he is and the priest's he worked with aren't speaking."

"Is this in the province of Berry?" Olivier asked and he looked so indignant that it was difficult for her to continue with her game.

She paused for a few moments, wondering what she should say next. The trees had thinned out considerably and the shallow stream had returned, on the other side of the trail and behind the row of pine trees was a brown fence that had some grazing brown and white cows within. A young girl, no more than twelve was herding some sheep that had come down from an open gate and were now drinking their fill at the river, a large black and white dog at her side.

The girl, recognising Olivier as the Count who lived in one of the estates up river and Anne as his lady, smiled sheepishly from where she stood on a boulder and waved cheerfully. She went back to tending the small flock of sheep. Some having drank their full, were wandering about the banks of the river and began grazing the tall grasses that grew there.

Anne gazed back at the young girl. Though she was the daughter of a poor farmer, the young girl was well dressed and looked well fed than the peasants that she had come across in her hometown and she certainly looked better than the poor children in Paris.

She realised that Olivier was still waiting for an answer and turned back to him. "No, it wasn't in this province. You have nothing to worry about."

Olivier looked slightly relieved. "That is good. However, I'll still send people out to find him and I can speak to him myself."

"You don't have to do that. I am sure that he will come to his senses soon."

"It pains me to see you this upset. I want to see to it that he is brought back into your life."

"Olivier, he made his choice. You don't know my brother as well as I do, he doesn't want me to be happy and I think that this is for the best." Anne was beginning to get desperate now.  
The young Count heard the plea in her voice and decided to drop the subject altogether and when he looked into her eyes, he was surprised to see that they were full of tears. "You're right, Anne. Of course you are. I don't think it would be wise to force his presence on us right now, especially when he did that to you."

Relieved that the topic was dropped, Anne fell into a thoughtful silence. A large bumblebee, distracted from the aroma of the colourful flowers by the light yellow dress she was wearing kept circling around her. The bee soon lost interest in her dress and went instead toward the towering sunflowers.

Anne had a secret that she had kept from her husband all this time and she found that there would come a day when he would discover that secret. She had, on many occasions wished to tell him of the fleur-de-lis branded on her shoulder but she was always fearful of his reaction. What would he do if he found out that his wife was now considered a branded criminal? She shuddered at the thought of what could happen and hoped that he was as understanding as he was loving.

She had already decided sometime ago that perhaps it was better that the Count did not know what had happened and why she had been branded- though the reason for it was revenge for a past wrong and what she now called, youthful stupidity. She could imagine the scandal that would ensue if anybody discovered that the wife of one of the Counts of Berry was a branded thief. Though hopefully, Olivier would be more understanding and would get her side of the story before listening to that of his fellow noblemen.

Wouldn't it be best if he found out from you and sooner rather than later? The question began to nag at her and soon her conscience became her traitor.

How long could she possibly keep this a secret from a person as close as Olivier was to her? She couldn't risk the possibility of him finding out, yet it would hurt them both if she didn't. She looked sideways at Olivier, the sun made the handsome features on his face stand out, the aristocratic nose and dark blue eyes. The smile upon his face when he realised she was looking at him was enough for her to feel more at ease.

"Olivier, what would you do if somebody close to you had a secret?" she asked suddenly, her heart pounding.

Surprised, her husband frowned. He brought his eyes to her and gave her a deep penetrating look that made her feel as if she were being examined by one of the priests at the Convent she had run away from. "I suppose that depends on the secret and the person who was keeping it from you."

Anne thought for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "This secret has been kept for a long time and has been bothering me a lot. I don't think that I can keep it anymore and wish to tell you."

Olivier's frown deepened. "Anne, what is going on? Is there another man you wish to tell me about?"

"No, my heart belongs to you just as yours belongs to me." She was feeling slightly disgruntled at Olivier's assumption that there was another man involved in this. "This was one from when I was fifteen, a few months before I met you."

Still frowning, Olivier gazed intently at his wife and urged her to continue with a gesture of his hand. Her heart pounding in her throat, Anne opened her mouth and quickly closed it.

Finally, she opened her mouth and asked. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do!" Olivier sounded alarmed now. "Anne, for the love of God, tell me what is on your mind! I am dying from anxiety."

Anne looked around them nervously and came to a quick decision, perhaps it would be better to tell her secret in the safety of the Château de la Fère where nobody had the chance to eavesdrop upon their conversation.

"How far is it to the Château, Olivier?"

"We're about thirty minutes away." Olivier looked beside himself in worry as he eyed her. "Just beyond this fork lies the field that will take us to the rear of the property."

"That is good," Anne said distracted. "Do you want to race me?"

Without waiting for a reply, Anne spurred the bay mare into a gallop, adjusting quickly to the change in stride with the ease of an experienced horsewoman, Anne looked back to see that Olivier was in pursuit, a curious expression on his face. The stream headed away from them, in the direction of woods and away from the field that they were approaching, Anne knew from her few rides here in these woods that the stream met the river that went along the farming communities and through the towns, eventually meeting up with the Seine in Paris.

The wind and movement of the horse made her blonde curls bounce and fly with the wind and she suddenly felt more alive than she had for months. The woodland sped by in a blur of assorted colours, and Anne knew by the way the trees were beginning to thin that they would soon be in the field that she knew would take them back to the Château.

Sensing her urgency, the horse's ears flicked nervously but did not slow in its pace. As they emerged from the trees and into the field, Olivier had caught up and was still gaining.  
He laughed. "You always are full of surprises, Anne!"

Anne laughed as well, their horses were nearly neck and neck with each other now and she urged the mare to go faster. Very competitive by nature, she was intent on winning the race. All thoughts on what she wanted to tell Olivier was lost in her mind as she concentrated on the race.  
She didn't see the rabbit hole until she was right on top of it, the mare's leg got caught in the hole that threw Anne violently to the front, and she barely clung on to the saddle. Unbalanced and her leg broken, the horse collapsed, bringing with her the unfortunate rider in the saddle. Anne screamed when she saw the ground meet her and when she hit the ground, it was her head that met it first.

"Anne!" shouted Olivier panic-stricken. He stopped his black gelding and dismounted and raced to the side of his wife who had been knocked unconscious. Beside her the beautiful bay mare grunted in pain, the right leg at an awkward angle- the horse would have to be put out of its misery but that was the least of his worries.

He bent low over his wife's head, his fingers feeling around to find the injury. At last he found it, a deep cut on the side of Anne's head. He would have to stem the blood until he got to the Château and sent for a doctor. He cursed himself that he hadn't thought of bringing a few of his servants along for the early morning ride, he would have been able to stay here as one of them would get a doctor. However, Anne had made it clear to him that she wanted this ride to be with just the two of them and reluctantly, Olivier had relented to her wishes.

Anne stirred feebly, moaning in pain. Without pausing, he took out his knife and began loosening the dress she was wearing, to allow air to come more easily to her. As he loosened the dress a piece of white cloth that Anne usually put around her shoulder fell and exposed it and Olivier stared wide eyed at the marking that he had found.

Anne's eyes shot open and she stared at her husband, seeing his eyes drawn to her shoulder, she knew that he had seen the fleur-de-lis branded on her skin. She shuddered when she saw the dark blue eyes become dark, as if all the light had gone from them. His face became contorted in rage, in the last few minutes she had seen her husband turn into a monster.

"What is this?" he questioned his voice harsh. It seemed he forgot to care about his wife who had taken a fall from a horse minutes earlier.

"Olivier, I can explain." Anne's eyes grew wide in fear when she saw the look that came upon the Count's face.

"Explain what? That you are nothing more than a common criminal?"

She winced at these words. "I may have kept that hidden from you but everything else was true. I love you Olivier!"

"My father was right to suspect you," Olivier snarled. "Everything he said about you was true! He didn't like you because he could see right through you."

She was crying now. "I didn't want to tell you because I knew what your reaction would be. Please, look at me Olivier and see how much I loved you."

However, the hope of that was taken away when the Count stood up. His eyes cold and a look of hatred upon his face, without a word he walked away and headed towards his black gelding that had begun to graze. The mare that he had bought her was heaving and groaning in pain, unable to get up and when the horse neighed, he ignored her and continued on.  
Anne tried to stand up; she wanted to reason with her husband. and to finally tell him her side of the story but when she got to her feet, the earth spun dangerously. Finally, the pain from her head wound got the best of her and she fainted once more.

She wasn't conscious when Olivier came back with a rope and acting as judge and jury, hung her from the lowest branch on a tree nearby. Then observing his handiwork with a grim expression on his face went to his waiting horse and spurred it into a gallop without a backwards glance upon the woman he once loved.


End file.
